After the Battle
by Dolceconbrio
Summary: Have you ever imagined what Harry Potter would do after the Battle of Hogwarts? Well, he certainly didn't. Oneshot!


It felt a little strange, Harry had to admit when he apparated into Hogsmeade to walk up to the Castle. He didn't think he'd ever done this walk on his own, without lots of other laughing Hogwarts students returning to the Castle after a day in the village.

It had been about a month since the Battle of Hogwarts and the Wizarding World was finally coming to terms with the fact that the war was over. There had been countless celebrations these last few days and Harry had been invited to every single one of them, but he hadn't really felt much like celebrating.

It was true that they had won. Most of the important Death Eaters that had survived the battle had been captured in the aftermath, though some stragglers still remained at large. Families had been reunited with the hostages the Dark side had kept for leverage.

Voldemort was dead.

But still, Harry didn't feel like they had really come out of this victorious. He only had to look at his surrogate family to realise this. He shivered. The Weasleys were inconsolable about Fred, and George had not been seen since the battle. Harry himself had spent most of the week attending funerals. Tonks, Remus, hell, even little Colin Creevy. Everyone had been congratulating him on defeating Voldemort, but every time a camera flashed, Harry was reminded of his eager Housemate.

He had reached the Castle by now. It was hard to believe this place had been half destroyed this time last month. Work was still in progress, but the innate magic of the place, combined with the help of countless volunteers had gone a long way. The elves had been great too of course, both in the reconstruction and in keeping the volunteers motivated. It was for a reason that everyone remembered Hogwarts cooking fondly.

That was not why he was here today, however. He found himself in front of the Headmaster's office. Or Headmistress, he should say, now that Professor McGonagall had taken over. He stared at the Griffin guarding the entrance and sighed, feeling nostalgic and annoyed at the same time. Nobody had seen fit to tell him the password.

He cleared his throat. "I have an appointment?" The stupid thing didn't budge. He wasn't about to start calling out every sweet he knew, though. Even _if_ McGonagall had decided to stick with Dumbledore's theme of passwords, he wasn't fourteen anymore.

Then, a possible solution occurred to him.

"Expecto Patronum." Harry smiled as the silvery stag appeared and cocked his head questioningly. "Please inform Professor McGonagall I have arrived." He instructed. Prongs tossed his antlers and ran straight through the barrier.

Harry felt a little smug, looking at the statue. _Got you in the end._

A moment later, the guardian admitted him onto the revolving staircase. He knocked.

"Enter."

"Professor." Harry couldn't help but smile a little as he saw her, she didn't look at all different, as though this was just another day at school. It was comforting somehow. "Nice to see you."

McGonagall was sat behind a desk covered in parchment. The office was bare and strangely quiet, devoid of all the twinkling and whirring instruments that had once occupied the shelves.

The usually stern professor smiled back at him. "I agree. You look well. Please, sit down."

Harry sat, trying not to feel like a schoolboy that had gotten into trouble.

McGonagall sighed as if she felt the same. "How are you doing, Mr Potter?"

"Fine, I guess. Just strange, now that it's over."

McGonagall nodded understandingly. "I know what you mean." She grimaced. "I find myself wondering how Albus managed it all. I seem to have enough trouble getting everything in order, without the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hanging over the Castle."She looked over to the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, who appeared to be fast asleep.

Harry could imagine.

"And that brings me to the reason I have asked you here, Mr Potter. Miss Granger informs me she intends to return to Hogwarts to finish her schooling. Mr Weasley has declined in favour of a career with the Aurors. Most of your year mates have let me know their decisions." She looked at him expectantly, "You, however, have not."

Harry smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, "I know." He had been trying to come to a decision but couldn't quite bring himself to make it final.

"While I understand you need some time to think things over, I do need to make arrangements for the coming term. This is why I thought it best to discuss your situation now, rather than to wait for the end of the summer holidays."

"I guess that makes sense." He shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I really haven't given it much thought. It's just-" He tried to find the words, "I don't really know what I want. I don't feel like I could just go back to being a student.." He breathed a sigh, "And now I don't really know what I want to do. I've always been focused on dealing with Voldemort and, you know, trying to stay alive. Everyone always assumed I would want to be an Auror afterwards, you know."

Professor McGonagall's lips tightened in a smile, "As I recall, that's what you told me as well."

They both fondly remembered a career advice meeting, a toad sitting in the corner, and smiled together.

"That's what I thought the obvious choice was back then." Harry acknowledged, "But I was fifteen at the time, and well, I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life chasing ghosts."

"I see." The Headmistress stated. "So, what is it, you _do_ want? To be a professional Quidditch player? You certainly have the skill."

Harry grimaced. "No, I am sick of the press."

"Healing?"

"I'm more likely to attract dangerous situations than to resolve them"

"Going into the Ministry?"

"I'm not exactly fond of them right now."

"Helping George Weasley with his joke shop then?"

"He's thinking of selling it altogether. Besides, I've never been that creative."

"Teaching?"

"I – " Harry stopped. "I always enjoyed leading the DA, but I don't even have any NEWTS. I don't see many parents liking that."

Now Professor McGonagall actually laughed. "Mr Potter, do you think many parents would object to the Saviour of the Wizarding World teaching their children?"

"I guess. But I don't want to be a fraud!" He cast his mind back to Lockhart.

He sighed again. "See, I don't know what to do!"

"Might I suggest a solution?" McGonagall reached for some parchment on the corner of her desk.

"I guess."

"At the moment we have a lot of students that were not at school last year, due to various reasons, and those that did attend have gaps in their education, due to the teachers You-Know-Who chose." Harry thought back to Neville's explanation of the Carrows, and their barbaric teaching of the Unforgivables.

"This means that getting everyone back to where they should be will prove very complicated indeed. And on top of that, we still don't have a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." She sounded exasperated.

Harry opened his mouth to protest. He couldn't possibly teach DADA without a NEWT!

"However," McGonagall went on, "I realise that you would feel uncomfortable teaching in that capacity, at least so long as your year mates are still at school. So, I have a proposition for you.

You would come back as a Hogwarts student and choose those subjects you wish to take NEWT's in. Considering your past record, I would suggest Charms and Transfiguration at the very least. However, we both know you already know most of the coursework for Defence and it would be a waste of your time to sit in a classroom for this."

"I propose you take the Defence NEWT at the Ministry this summer and then use the free time in your schedule to help the Defence teacher with the younger classes, so they can get the older students back to where they should be.

I plan to offer the same arrangement to Miss Granger for Charms. I shall help the new Transfigurations professor myself."

She smiled at his bewildered expression.

"I do believe you would do very well, you have the OWL qualifications necessary to teach the lower years and it would give you some time to consider if teaching is something you want to do as a career."

Harry was astonished; He had never expected anything like this when he was invited to Hogwarts and he found himself seriously considering the offer.

"And if I decide teaching is not for me?" He asked slowly.

McGonagall's smile widened. "Then, of course after one year, you would be free to do whatever you choose, and you shall have the NEWT's to do so."

He should probably think this over and get back to the Headmistress, he thought to himself, but the thought of being back at Hogwarts, not having to think about a place to live, a job, the press, _and just coming home_, without the constant threat of Voldemort, a warm feeling just came over him and he found himself nodding.

"I'll do it."

And that was how, on the first of September, Harry found himself sitting on the Hogwarts Express, his trunk stowed above his head, looking out at the other Hogwarts students boarding the train. He smiled as friends hugged, glad to see each other again after the holidays, and first years said goodbye to their parents, promising to write often.

And he felt happy and maybe just a little bit proud that they would have a perfectly boring school year.

* * *

** This is a Oneshot that's been sitting on my computer, half-finished, for a long time.**

**It is what I personally imagine might have happened to Harry.**

**I finally decided to finish and publish it. I never intended for it to be any longer, though I might be convinced otherwise if enough people enjoy it and offer me ideas ;)**

**Please let me know what you think, regardless.**

**Sincerely**

**Dolceconbrio**


End file.
